


will you be my breath (through the deep, deep water)

by Flowerparrish



Series: winterhawk bingo [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bingo Fill, Bucky is a little creepy but it's not his fault, Clint likes him anyway, Firefly AU, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 20:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20141254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flowerparrish/pseuds/Flowerparrish
Summary: When they open the box and find a naked man inside—it’s not what Clint was expecting.akaa firefly au





	will you be my breath (through the deep, deep water)

**Author's Note:**

> Bingo square filled: fantasy/sci-fi au

When they open the box and find a naked man inside—it’s not what Clint was expecting.

Steve holds up his hands and says, “I can explain.”

The man wakes up screaming. For a little while, everything goes to shit.

-

“He’s sleeping,” Sam says. “Took twice the normal amount of sedative to put him down, though, so I don’t know how long it’ll last.”

Steve looks mulish, jaw clenched and eyes angry but downcast. “I didn’t have a choice,” he says.

“Explain, then,” Natasha demands.

Steve explains. And, yeah, okay, if the stuff they were doing to Barnes is anything like the stuff that was once done to Nat—stuff Clint knows from many drunk nights and piecing together around a lot of blanks—which is likely, because it was done by the same people… Yeah, it makes sense that Steve would risk everything to rescue Barnes.

“You could’ve just told us,” Natasha says. Her voice is cold, but Clint knows her well enough to know that the ice isn’t aimed at Steve, not really—it’s aimed at the people who did this to Bucky, who once tried to do this to her.

“I didn’t know who I could trust,” Steve replies, jaw set stubbornly. “I wasn’t risking his safety, his freedom, when I wasn’t sure.”

Nat inclines her head in the faintest nod. Steve accepts it, seeming to understand that the acknowledgement is the best he’s gonna get.

“They’re gonna be coming after him,” Tony points out.

“We’ll hide them. We’ll be more careful. We’ll take some legit jobs for a while and they can make themselves scarce. We won’t take on passengers.” Clint’s just listing options as he thinks of them.

Steve looks surprised. “We can stay?”

“Of course,” Sam says, like that should have been obvious. “You won’t find anywhere safer.”

“We’re gonna run short on money if we only go legit and don’t take on passengers,” Tony points out. He cuts a glance at Steve. “Unless you’re secretly rich.”

“My accounts have probably been frozen,” Steve admits.

“I can get around that,” Tony says, waving him off. “I can easily unfreeze it if you’ve got the credits to cash out.”

“Oh. Then, yeah, I can help.”

Tony quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah? How much?”

Steve says a truly improbable number. “What the fuck?” Clint blurts. “Who the hell are you?”

Steve shrugs. “I was a pretty famous architect and artist. Money was never the issue.”

Tony whistles. “Well, okay. We’ll work on that, then, while you get your boy settled. Now on to the problem of, what if Barnes tries to kill us in our sleep?”

“Bucky wouldn’t kill anyone,” Steve protests instantly.

“He’s not the man you knew,” Nat says, wading back into the fray. “I, more than anyone, know that. He may come back to you. He may not. But right now, he’s a danger. I won’t risk my crew if you can’t handle him.”

Steve looks stubborn again. “I can handle him.”

Nat shrugs. “See that you do.”

Tony looks like he wants to argue on that front, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut. It’s better to risk death than Natasha’s wrath after questioning her authority, after all.

-

The first alarm goes up when Sam and Nat get back to the medbay and Barnes isn’t there.

Clint helps search the ship and starts with his own room.

It is an unexpected jackpot; Barnes is sitting on Clint’s bunk holding a sonic arrow, studying it closely. “Where did you get this?” he asks Clint when Clint pops his head in.

“Oh, uh, Tony made it for me. I like bows, but sonic arrows do a lot more damage than regular ones.”

Barnes nods slowly. “I’ve never shot a bow.”

That, in Clint’s opinion, is two things: one, not a surprise, but two, a total shame. “Maybe I can show you sometime,” he says, before his brain catches up with his mouth and he realizes maybe he shouldn’t be offering to teach the deadly brainwashed assassin how to be more deadly.

But something about Barnes’ general aura brightens at Clint’s words. He doesn’t smile—Clint’s not even sure he knows _how _to smile—but his eyes seem a little less heavy for a few moments. It makes Clint feel good to have given him even a second of relief from his suffering; Clint’s under no illusions, he knows Barnes has a hard road ahead of him.

“Everyone’s looking for you,” Clint tells him. “D’you want me to take you to Steve?”

Barnes shrugs but then nods after a moment. He follows Clint easily, and it’s unnerving to have Barnes at his back, but it’s nothing Clint didn’t have to get used to with Nat at first, too.

-

Clint doesn’t see much of Barnes for the next couple of days.

That is, until he wakes up in the middle of the night to Barnes sitting at the edge of his bed.

“What the _fuck!” _Clint yelps. It’s not even a question, just a general accusation at the universe.

Barnes was already looking at Clint, but Barnes tilts his head when Clint shouts. He says nothing. It’s super creepy.

“Why are you here?” Clint asks.

“Steve was asleep.”

“So was I. Don’t you sleep?”

Barnes shrugs. “Slept three point four hours. Don’t need more.”

Clint tries to make his brain work long enough to decide what to do. “Why aren’t you watching Steve, then?”

Barnes shrugs. “Got bored.”

Clint doesn’t see how _he’s _more interesting, but—he’s tired. Barnes didn’t kill Clint in his sleep, and Barnes _could _have. Clint doesn’t see how this problem can’t wait till morning.

“Whatever,” Clint says. “I’m going back to sleep. Make sure you tell Steve where you are eventually or he’ll be worried.”

Clint’s out the second his head hits the pillow again, skin still crawling with the feeling of being watched.

When he wakes up, Barnes is gone.

-

A couple of days later, Barnes finds Clint moving cargo around in the hold. “Can I learn to shoot a bow?”

“Not on the ship,” Clint tells him. “Get them all to agree to let you off the ship, and then yes.”

Barnes nods. “What else can I do?”

Clint shrugs and drops so he’s sitting on a box and looking up at Barnes. “Did you used to have any hobbies?”

Barnes shrugs. “I don’t remember.”

“Draw something,” Clint suggests. “Steve should have materials.”

When Clint wakes up the next morning, there’s a sketch of him, asleep, in his bed.

It’s creepy. It’s also not a bad sketch—not professional, but detailed, decently proportioned. Clint pins it up in his room and doesn’t think about why.

-

Barnes finds Clint eating soup in the mess a few days later. “Spar with me.”

Clint eyes him. “I can fight, but you’d wipe the floor with me.”

“Let me teach you things, then.”

Clint contemplates it. Barnes is bulkier than Natasha; he’d have a whole different range of techniques to teach Clint, ones that might work better with Clint’s taller frame. “Okay.”

Barnes still wipes the floor with him. But Clint learns some stuff, too.

-

At some point, Barnes becomes Bucky, at least in Clint’s head.

Sparring becomes their daily ritual. Clint slowly amasses a collection of Bucky’s sketches—some still life, some attempts at people on the crew. Clint gets used to the feeling of someone watching him at odd times—not just when he’s asleep, but when he’s flying, when he’s plotting courses, when he’s chatting with the other crew members.

-

“She’s like me.”

“Shit,” Clint yelps, jolting in surprise. He whips around to see Bucky on the catwalk behind him. He comes over and joins Clint in sitting on the edge, legs dangling.

Clint thinks, for a moment, about the trust in the motion. Clint could easily push Barns off, so either Barnes is confident in his ability to catch himself, or he’s trusting Clint not to push him.

If it’s the latter, then he’s already come much farther than Clint expected in his recovery.

“What?” Clint finally asks.

“Natasha. She’s like me.”

“Yeah,” Clint agrees.

“How is she…” Barnes trails off. “Better” is the word he finally decides on.

“She worked hard. She built a life for herself instead of dwelling on whatever life she might have once had.”

Bucky nods, although he seems confused. “Steve tries to get me to remember.”

Clint shrugs. “Steve loves you, but he misses the person you once were. I hope you get some of that back, but don’t do it for Steve. Do it for you, or let it go and move on. You’re the one that has to live with yourself.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything. He just sits next to Clint, staring out over the cargo hold, eyes distant.

Clint pats him on the shoulder before he leaves a couple of hours later. He doesn’t realize until later that it was the first time they’ve touched.

-

Their first kiss is unconventional.

Bucky wakes Clint up at some hour that is either too late or too early for Clint to be awake, a hand on Clint’s arm. “What’s up?” Clint asks.

“I remember this feeling,” Bucky says.

“What feeling?”

Bucky gestures between them. “This one.”

Clint’s not awake enough for guessing games. “Bucky, c’mon, can this wait till morning?”

Bucky looks frustrated. “I need to know if you feel it too.”

“Feel _what?” _

Bucky licks his lips, tilts his head. “Can I kiss you?”

“You remember kissing?” Clint asks dumbly. Then, “wait, fuck, you want to kiss _me?” _

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, like it should be obvious. “Can I?”

Clint shouldn’t. Bucky’s not back to being a whole person yet. It’s entirely possible that he just likes Clint because Clint gives him the space to discover himself without expectations of what he should be or fear of what he might do. But… Clint _wants _to. Whatever it is that Bucky is feeling? It’s definitely mutual.

“Yeah,” Clint agrees. “C’mere.”

He scoots up on the bed and Bucky sits next to him, carefully cradling Clint’s face. When he leans it, it’s slow, and Clint leans forward to meet him.

It’s soft and hesitant and the best first kiss Clint’s ever had.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> No guarantees that this will become part of a longer work... but no promises that it WON'T, either, if a plot bunny forms. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
